A Family Wedding
by Maricole
Summary: A not too serious story about Rachel and John
1. Chapter 1

*AN *I have just been watching my Profiler dvd's – it was a great show. I remembered that I had written this story ages ago, and never posted it, so on the off chance that there is still someone interested in Profiler stories, I will put it up. It's a light hearted stand alone story about John and Rachel (of course).

The Family Wedding

Rachel turned the envelope over and over in her hands, staring at it with dread. The small white square of paper taunted her; she knew its contents and was almost apprehensive about reading them.

It was ridiculous, she told herself. She was a grown woman, a successful woman, and on her way to becoming a wealthy woman, with a very high profile job, work satisfaction and a wonderful medical scheme. With an inward laugh at herself, she tossed the envelope, unopened, across her desk, and turned back to her computer, trying to lose herself in the information, scrolling across her screen.

But it was there, just in the very corner of her eye, sitting there, mocking her and her pretense that all was well. She gritted her teeth, and began reading, but the different methods of religious sacrifice were not holding her attention as they should, particularly considering the grisly murders she was trying to help solve.

"Black dog?" asked Grace, and Rachel jumped a mile in the air.

"Grace, I didn't hear you come in," she said, putting one hand over her chest. "No, I'm just a little preoccupied."

"Found a connection?" asked Grace, sinking into the leather couch, and closing her eyes briefly.

"A connection?" she asked, and Grace opened one eye to look at her.

"Oh, you mean, a connection with the case? No, though there are some similarities with this one… but not close enough, I think…" her voice trailed off, and she glanced quickly at the envelope nervously.

"Well I just came to give you the results on the Levitsky autopsy. She was not raped, and I don't think the cases are related." And Grace handed over a disk. Rachel nodded absentmindedly and snuck another quick glance at the envelope.

"Thanks," she said, closing down her screen. "Though I was hoping we could find some commonality. Now it looks like we have two murderers." She sighed and Grace frowned, leaning forward to stare at her.

"Something is wrong," she said, and Rachel smiled a little, and shook her head.

"It's nothing really," she picked up the envelope again, and turned it over in her fingers, "I am just being silly, I guess, feeling a little flat. There is nothing wrong."

"Come on, spill," said Grace, kicking Rachel's office door shut. "I'm not going till you tell me what has made you look so down."

"I'm not down," Rachel said defensively, "It's just that today I got this," and she waved the envelope at Grace, and sighed again. "I've been expecting it, I've known about it for ages, but today it came, and I …" her voice tailed off.

"What is it?" queried Grace sharply, "Are you sick, is it test results, what's going on Rachel?" and concern etched itself on her beautiful face.

"Much, much worse," said Rachel glumly. "It's a wedding invitation. My cousin is getting married, and she wants me to be one of her bridesmaids."

"Oh," said Grace, sitting back and relaxing. "And?"

"I come from a fairly small suburb, and I was the only girl in the family," began Rachel, her fingers playing with the envelope.

"This I know already," said Grace, smiling.

"Well I grew up with five brothers, and I was a tomboy. I played with my brothers, soldiers, cowboys, space invaders, and basketball – anything that was rough and physical. My mother despaired of ever getting me to wear a dress, or become interested in girl things. My Aunt, my Dad's sister, who lived close, had two girls, and they were very girly. My cousins loved dolls and tea parties, and then graduated to wearing makeup and being cheerleaders, and particularly boys! I went from being a tomboy, to being the school nerd, when I realized I was no longer accepted into the boys games and not interested in what the girls were doing, they had all formed their own friendship groups, and I was sort of left outside. My cousins were really good friends with the popular girls at school. Trust me, I wasn't." She gave a little self-conscious grin and Grace nodded sympathetically.

"They used to go out of their way to make me feel ugly, unwanted and unable to fit in anywhere." She sighed.

"This is the final triumph for my Aunt," she went on to say. "Marie is a couple of years younger than me, and achieving what my Aunt believes is the ultimate thing a woman can achieve, which in her middle class mind, is marriage. She married my older cousin off several years ago, and I barely made it though that time."

"The problem being?" queried Grace, prodding gently.

"Aunt Anne will be so proud, and she will be dragging my mother into the arrangements, crowing ever so nicely of course, about how beautiful her daughters are, how fulfilling their lives are, and sympathizing, in a patronizing way, with Mom over me. You know, poor Rachel, I know she has a very good job but still no man in her life, and so forth."

"Your mother doesn't get upset by all that sort of stuff, does she?" asked Grace and Rachel shook her head.

"No, not really, but deep down I know she wishes that I would meet someone special. And Aunt Anne wears her down. The last wedding wasn't so bad, because I could sit in the background, but this time they want to dress me up in yards and yards of pink satin and lacy frills, and stick me out the front! And of course, the other bridesmaids are all the girls who ignored or patronized me at school."

"Oh you poor thing," laughed Grace. "And how sad that these things still prick even when you are holding down one of the most difficult positions in the Agency and have been living away from home for the last 10 years or so."

"Yes, isn't it," Rachel agreed gloomily. "Of course, I'm going with my head held high, I'm going to let them know that I am completely happy with who I am, and proud of what I have achieved. It makes no difference to me that there is no man in my life – I don't need one, anyway."

"That's the right attitude," said Grace. "You go girl! That's the way to handle this sort of thing."

"Yes," agreed Rachel despondently. "I am a mature and high achieving woman, and I am not dependent on any man. Or on their collective approval!"

"You can do it," said Grace nodding her head.

Rachel sighed again and nodded. After a moment of quiet reflection, Grace leant forward over Rachel's desk, a glimmer of a smile on her face.

. "Mind you, there's another way to knock all those women sideways," she said.

"Oh yes, what's that?" asked Rachel, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"This will be a formal wedding?" asked Grace, the smile growing.

"Yes, yes, what are you getting at?" queried Rachel.

"Ask John to go with you as your partner," said Grace. "It would certainly shut up any of your critics."

"Oh I couldn't possibly ask John to go with me," said Rachel, shocked. "I just couldn't ask him to a family thing, I just couldn't."

"Why not, are you two still arguing? I thought all that had settled down. He would probably enjoy doing it for you. And trust me, it will silence all those people that will otherwise be looking at you and thinking 'poor Rachel'. Well, all the females, that is."

Rachel gave a self-deprecatory laugh. "I can't believe I'm still allowing how those girls treated me back then, to influence how I feel about my cousin's wedding," she said. "I am totally disgusted with myself for being so very childish."

Grace smiled at her in silent sympathy. "Well, watch the disc, see what you can gleam from the autopsy report. Bailey has called a conference for about 1.30 p.m. See you then." She stood up and opened the door, hesitating for a moment; then stepped back into Rachel's office, with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Ask John," she said, and headed off back towards her own office.

Rachel watched her walk out of the door, with a sour expression on her face, and then turned back to her computer.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Three months on, and several cases solved, and still Rachel had not yet decided what to do about the wedding. The date was galloping toward her, she had applied for and received two weeks annual leave so she could spend some time with her family, and have last minute adjustments to the bridesmaid's gown that had been made to her measurements and that she had only seen as a grainy picture on the net. Her cousin had called her several times to catch up, but to also advise Rachel on the progress of the big day and to reassure her, each time they spoke, that she would be welcome to bring someone to the wedding with her, managing each time to make Rachel feel a little more inadequate.

After a particularly grueling case, resolved finally and the suspect arrested, Rachel headed down to the canteen, and sat leaning her head back against the wall, hands cupped around a hot coffee cup.

"Solving the world's problems?" came a male voice and she opened her eyes to find John standing in front of her, a smile lighting his handsome face.

"I can't even solve my own," she replied with a sigh. He frowned slightly, and pulled out a chair.

"Well you should be pretty pleased with yourself, that guy left quite a few puzzles that no one else could solve," he said, leaning his elbows on the table. "You saved a lot of lives by figuring it out."

"Maybe," she replied, then taking a deep breath, she put her coffee cup down and looked straight at him.

"Are you doing anything on the weekend of the 30th?" she asked finally.

John bit his lip and narrowed his eyes a little as he considered her question.

"I don't know," he replied cautiously. "That's still nearly a month away. Why?"

Rachel's nerve failed her and she picked up her cup and took a sip. "Never mind, nothing," she said, looking down into her cup. "It doesn't matter."

"What," he said, "Did you need something?" looking puzzled.

"No, it's nothing," she said, colouring. "Forget I said anything." And she stood up, effectively ending the conversation, and walked away, leaving John looking after her in confusion.

As she walked out of the elevator, Grace was waiting to pounce on her. She took her hand, and dragged her towards her office.

"I need your opinion," she said, and shut the office door, turning to look at Rachel with a nervous look on her face. "The strangest thing just happened."

"What?" asked Rachel, sinking into her chair. "A good strange thing or a bad strange thing?"

"A good thing, I think," replied Grace. "Do you remember David Petrovich – he is the medical examiner for the APD?"

"Yes, of course," replied Rachel, noting the colour that had tinged Grace's cheeks.

"He asked if I would meet him for coffee," said Grace, with a small laugh. "Me – I haven't been asked anything like that for about 20 years."

"And your reply was?" asked Rachel, leaning forward, smiling at Grace's expression.

"Well, life's too short to not take some chances," replied Grace. "He knows I have two small children, and I have known him for a long time. We are meeting Saturday morning, and I'm bringing the monsters. If he still wants to know me after that, well, that's points in his favor."

Rachel nodded and flicked her computer mouse so her screen reactivated

"You are right, life is too short to be worried about what people think," she said. "I am not going to worry any more about this stupid wedding. I am going to go with my head held high, so everyone knows how little I think of their small minded opinions."

Grace smiled again. "So you haven't asked John then," she said.

"Asked John what?" said the man himself, appearing in her doorway. Rachel looked up and glared at him.

"We were having a private conversation," she said, and he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, "Ask me what?" and he folded his arms, propping one shoulder against the door jam, totally adopting the manner of a person not prepared to leave.

"You can be so aggravating," said Rachel, pretending to be interested on whatever had appeared on her screen.

"Yep, I am good at it though," he replied, not moving, a grin on his face. "You have been weird, or should I say weirder, for ages Rachel, what is the problem. Spit it out!"

"She has to go to a family wedding, and they have been giving her grief for going by herself," said Grace, before Rachel could say anything. "She was going to ask if you would go as her escort."

"Grace no," said Rachel furiously, and blushed firmly fixing her gaze on the screen.

"I wouldn't mind," said John at the same time.

There was silence in the room. Grace stood up, and smiled at Rachel. "I am taking a chance," she said softly, "Why don't you." And she walked out, patting John on the arm as she passed.

More silence, then Rachel looked up. John was still in the doorway, his blue eyes fixed on her.

"I wouldn't mind," he said again.

"Oh sit down," she said, "and let me fill you in before you commit to a weekend of unbridled speculation and probable boredom."

He undraped himself from the doorway, and sat down in the chair Grace had just vacated.

"My cousin is getting married." She started uncertainly, "The family is sort of expecting me to bring someone, but since the whole jail thing there's been no chance to meet anyone…." And her voice tailed off.

"I don't mind," he said for a third time. "Weddings can be fun, lots of food and usually a drunken uncle or some relative making a hilarious and embarrassing speech. I gather this is the weekend of the 30th?"

"Yes," replied Rachel. "The thing is, I am a bridesmaid, so you would have to sit with my brothers or parents during the reception, and everyone there will be staring at me because of the jail, and other things, and scrutinizing you because I have never turned up with an escort to any of these family shows - ever."

"I am fairly civilized," John replied, "I am sure I can sit with your relatives for a couple of hours without doing too much to embarrass you."

"They might embarrass you." She said, and he laughed and shook his head.

"Impossible," he said with another grin.

"You would probably have to fly out on the Friday and we could travel back together on the Sunday – I'll make the arrangements, if you really think you could stand it," she said, taking a deep breath. "Thanks."

"No big," he replied. "As long as no nasty last minute murder turns up, there shouldn't be a problem." He looked at his watch "Bailey is expecting us in the control room in 10 minutes." He stood up and smiled at her. "I'll behave, and try not to embarrass you," he said, and walked out of her office, leaving her feeling grateful but even more anxious in a very different way.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Rachel was met at the airport by her mother, who hugged her tightly and led her to the baggage pick up talking all the time.

"It is wonderful to have you home," she kept saying, holding Rachel's hand and squeezing it occasionally. "I can't understand why it's taken this long; I really wanted you to have a few weeks home after that awful jail experience."

Rachel located her suitcase, and pulled it off the roundabout. "I needed to help reestablish the unit," she replied. "I needed to get back to work, to sort things out in my head. The team, Bailey and John, they worked so hard to prove my innocence. Things have just been so crazy since then."

"It's been such an awful 12 months or so," her mother continued. "Hopefully all the horrible stuff is past us by now. And Marie is so pleased you agreed to be in her wedding."

Rachel unpacked in her old bedroom, glad she had only brought casual clothes, and then lay back on the bed, looking up to see if the crack in the ceiling above her bed was still the same, as she felt so different to the Rachel that had last been there.

That Rachel had just been accepted into the FBI on a specialized law course, was full of excitement and wonder, and itching to leave the town where she had grown up, her life spread out enticingly before her. This Rachel was nearly 10 years older, and had seen life at its worst, the evil and horror that humans could do to each other, and had been targeted for revenge by a madman working for the very organization in which she had placed all her faith.

On the other hand, she had made some really good friends, gained a world of self confidence that the younger version of herself so desperately lacked, and discovered what being part of a team really meant, having her team go to war on her behalf.

She sat up and stared at herself in the mirror on her dressing table and could almost see, superimposed on her flawless face, the teenage acne and the badly styled fly away hair that had contributed much to her teenage miseries. After a long moment, she shrugged her shoulders, and gave herself a mental shake, and went downstairs.

Two of her brothers, Mike and Andrew, and their wives were coming for dinner; her mother was flitting in and out of the kitchen, so she busied herself helping in whatever way she could. She had always got on very well with Mike's wife Sarah, and Andrew's wife, Belinda, was her best, her only real friend from school, so she was really looking forward to catching up.

Dinner conversation was all about her work, her brothers were fascinated by some of the stories she told about the cases she had worked on, and her parents wanted to know the details of the friends she had made, and the team members she worked with, especially since they had worked so hard to prove her innocence in the Marks case. She spoke glowingly of her friendship with Grace and George, and how easy Bailey was to work with, and how John had almost been charged with insubordination by directly ignoring specific orders from the hierarchy and chasing up the leads to free her, and finally looked around the table at the interested faces and grimaced.

"That's enough about what's been happening to me," she said. "Tell me about what is happening for you," and she looked at Belinda, who was sitting next to her.

Rachel had known Belinda since they were both in kindergarten together. Belinda was quite short, had black curly hair and green eyes, and had been outgoing and bubbly ever since Rachel could remember. Her parents and Belinda's were good friends, and everyone had been pleased when she and Andrew had announced they were getting married.

"Well, apart from the obvious," Belinda grinned, and pushed back a little from the table, patting her slight bulge. "Junior here has finally decided making Mommy sick all the time wasn't such a good idea, so I've stopped throwing up every five minutes and now can't stop eating. I am going to end up the size of a barn."

"It suits you," replied Rachel. "I still can't believe you're having a baby though. It seems like yesterday we were playing with dolls ourselves."

"Well it means I can't drink, when we go out for Marie's hen's night next Friday," replied Belinda glumly. "I will end up being the designated driver and babysitting you lot."

"Oh yes, the hen's night," said Rachel. "It will be the first time in ages that I will catch up with those girls. I don't know whether I 'm looking forward to it or not."

"Those girls, as you call them," her mother said, "Are grown up now too, and they won't be able to tease you like they used to."

"Of course not," said Rachel quickly, "But it's been a long time."

At her side, Belinda rolled her eyes. "Some of them are still bitches," she muttered to Rachel under her breath.

Sarah, sitting across the table nodded. "Oh yes they are," she said. "I work with one of them, Larissa, and she can be quite nasty sometimes."

"I remember Larissa only too well," said Rachel. "She was a cheer leader, didn't she go out with the captain of the football team?" she asked Belinda.

"Married him," said Sarah.

"Oh yes, and had her little clique of friends who were just so much better than everyone else – remember how they used to put us down?" replied Belinda.

Rachel nodded "She used to go out of her way to make me feel uncomfortable. She is one of Marie's bridesmaids?"

"Well yes," replied Belinda. "She has always been one of Marie's friends. Marie was in her 'group,' don't forget."

"Oh good, I can't wait for the rehearsal or the hen's night," said Rachel. "It's going to be fun – not."

"Don't be so defeatist Rach," said Andrew from the end of the table. "Show them one of your pay slips, that will shut them up."

"Very funny," she replied. "And I don't get paid that much, it is a government job, after all."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The week flew past, and Rachel spent the time shopping with her mother, and catching up with her cousin for lunch and a dress fitting. The dress was not as bad as she had imagined, a tight fitting strapless pink satin sheath, which she actually liked. Marie gave her an itinerary of the wedding day, complete with make-up and hair times, accounting for every minute from the time she woke up until they would actually be seated at the bridal table for the reception. John had called her twice, once to update her on the case they were currently working on, and once to confirm his flight arrival time on the Friday afternoon before the wedding.

The hen's night started well, Rachel was picked up reasonably early by Belinda, and driven to a restaurant where Marie and her friends were going to have dinner before heading on to a night club. Rachel knew most of the women attending the dinner, and was gratified to find that they seemed genuinely pleased to see her, all very interested in her work, and what had been happening in her life. She finally got to discuss the wedding with the other bridesmaids, her cousin Heather, and two girls she remembered very well from her days as the school nerd, Larissa and Melanie. All three had been cheerleaders, popular and beautiful, looked up to by most of the other school attendees, and all three had made Rachel's life a misery. However all three seemed happy to have her join them. She was amazed at what 10 years had done for their maturity levels.

Rachel was filled in on who was married, who was divorced, and who had children.

Everyone had a wedding or couple story to tell, and Larissa informed Rachel how she had married the most popular guy at school, the one that had caused a lot of the girls sleepless nights with his long blonde hair and wicked smile. Rachel glanced down at her plate, Larissa's husband had for a long time been the object of her own teenage fantasies, and she was sure everyone had known it.

The food was enjoyable, and Rachel relaxed, thinking about how much she had dreaded coming home, and how silly she had been. During a lull in the conversation, Heather leaned over the table and smiled at her.

"So, who is this guy that you are bringing to the wedding?" she asked, and everyone immediately stopped talking.

"A friend," she replied, taking a sip of her wine. She looked around and realized everyone was watching her. "What?' she said, "He's a friend, someone I work with."

"He must be more than a friend," said Heather. "You wouldn't bring just a friend to a family wedding, surely."

"No," said Rachel, a little more firmly. "He is just a friend."

"OK" said Heather, in a disbelieving tone "Just a friend, right."

"What's he look like?" asked Melanie, twirling her wine glass around. "is he good looking?"

"What does that matter?" replied Rachel. "Looks are in the eye of the beholder anyway."

"That's the sort of response you get when someone isn't good looking," said Larissa with a superior smirk.

"He's ok looking," replied Rachel, starting to feel like she was being backed into a corner.

"So he's ugly then," said Larissa, with a confident toss of her head.

"I didn't say that," replied Rachel, feeling a little more uncomfortable. "What do looks matter anyway? I hope we are all too mature to worry about things like that. John isn't ugly."

"So this John, what does he do?" asked Melanie. "Is he a profiler, like you?"

"John is an agent, we work as a team," said Rachel. "You will get to meet him on Saturday, you can all make up your own minds."

"So he's an agent – like the guys in Men in Black? Does he wear a suit most of the time?" asked Marie. "Does he carry a gun?"

"Well, yes he does wear suits," said Rachel, "And carry a gun. Nothing like Men in Black though."

"Short hair?" asked Larissa. "Sunglasses? Standard issue FBI robot?"

Rachel frowned. "He does have short hair," she said. "And doesn't everyone wear sunglasses outside? Anyway, enough about John, Marie, tell me more about William."

"He's a dream," replied Marie, more than happy to change the subject. "I told you how we met didn't I? You will meet him at the rehearsal tomorrow night. He can't wait to meet you; he was so impressed when I said you worked for the FBI."

"We were all impressed when we heard you got a job with them," said Larissa, slightly maliciously. "But all so shocked when you were arrested for murder."

Rachel flinched a little, the subject was still raw. "Well it has all been resolved," she said, glancing at Belinda for help.

"With a lot of help from your standard issue ugly FBI agent 'friend'," said Melanie with a smirk.

"Rachel, come with me, I need to pee again," Belinda responded immediately. "Being pregnant is so much fun sometimes."

She pushed away from the table and stood up, holding out her hand to Rachel, who took it gratefully.

"I told you they were still bitches," she muttered under her breath as they walked off. "They reminded me of vultures circling. I hope this guy of yours is able to take the heat when he comes."

Rachel gave a gurgle of laughter. "I think John will surprise them," she said. She looked around to make sure the ladies room was empty. "I can't believe it," she said to Belinda.

"Half an hour in the company of those three, and I'm hiding in the toilets again. Talk about feeling like I'm back at school."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The rest of the night dragged on. They all went to the night club, and Rachel found herself drinking a lot more than she usually did, to drown out the feelings of anger she was feeling toward the rest of the wedding party. They made numerous snide comments about her 'friend' all disguised as 'jokes', insinuating that John was an ugly desperate person only dating her because neither of them could get anyone else. Both Belinda and Sarah were valiant in trying to protect her, but she discovered the more she drank, the less she cared about what they were saying. She had no desire to dance with the group on the dance floor, but sat in the background with Belinda, willing the night to end. She became more and more quiet, and was relieved when Belinda, using her pregnancy as an excuse, decided to go home at a reasonable hour, so Rachel could leave early.

She slept late the next morning, and came downstairs just in time to help her mother get a big family lunch prepared.

Her oldest brother Ray was an army sergeant, and stationed in Hawaii, but everyone else was coming, including her Aunt and Uncle, and Heather and her husband Thomas, and their daughter, and Marie and her fiancé William. She had met Thomas several years before, at Heather's wedding, and liked him very much, and was looking forward to meeting William. She was also looking forward to catching up with her brother Jeff, his wife Jen, and her two nieces Leah and Emily, whom she hadn't seen since Danny's funeral, and then only briefly.

It was wonderful to be caught up in the whole large family lunch, listening to several conversations swirling around her, and watching the antics of the young children, and the disturbing feelings she had been made to feel the previous night slowly ebbed away, until her Aunt leaned forward across the table and smiled at her.

"So, Rachel, you are bringing a young man to Marie's wedding?" she asked, "Is this the same young man that worked so hard to get you out of that awful predicament you were in?"

Rachel's mother glared at her sister in law. "We are not discussing that awful time," she said firmly, "I have not even questioned Rachel about who is escorting her to the wedding."

She looked at her daughter and smiled softly. "But, is he?" she said. "Because if he is, I want him to know how thankful and grateful we are to him."

"What's he like?" asked her Aunt. "Are you dating him?"

Rachel looked down at her plate. "No," she said finally, "And yes, John worked hard to get the evidence to set me free. He is a good friend, a co worker, and that's all there is too it."

She picked up her plate, and walked out to the kitchen, ending the conversation, ignoring the hurt look her mother cast at her, the eye rolling of her cousins and look of indignation from her aunt. She began loading the dishwasher, biting her lip in anger. Her brother Mike came in behind her, and gave her a hug.

"I can see that talking about what happened is upsetting you," he said. "Dad has told them all to drop the subject, so come on back in."

"I'm going outside to play with my nieces," she said. "I'll be back when I feel a little calmer." And she walked out through the back door.

She sat outside on the old swing, and pulled out her phone.

Grace answered on the second ring, and it was so good to hear her voice. She filled Rachel in on what had been happening, and the details of the gruesome murder they were all trying to solve.

"Bailey and John are in Houston at the moment, chasing up leads." She went on to say, "But it's ok, we will make sure John gets on the plane on Friday on time."

"I am beginning to feel sorry for him, and he's not even here yet," Rachel told her. "The gossip and speculation that is going around is just unbelievable."

"John won't care," replied Grace with a laugh."And you will be pleased and relieved to know that both George and I have strictly forbidden him to wear any orange or patterned shirts or paisley ties. We have told him it's a blue wedding."

"Thank goodness for that," said Rachel, smiling a little. "Some of his colour choices are rather out there."

"Well, have a great time," said Grace. "I must go; I think Jason is trying to put George in the washing machine. Never a dull moment with these two, I hate to think what they will be like when they are teenagers."

Rachel laughed and rang off. Talking to Grace had cheered her up. She put her phone back in her pocket, and headed back inside.

It was much later that night, when her mother cornered her in the kitchen, as she was drying dishes.

"I am sorry about the speculation that is going around," she began, "Anne has told me that this young man that is coming to the wedding is the same young man you originally got into trouble about over an incident when you were at Quantico. Is that true?"

"I suppose Aunt Anne has been gossiping with Heather and her band of witches," said Rachel angrily. "How would she know, anyway. John and I did have an interlude while at Quantico – it didn't lead to anything, and it wasn't John that caused me trouble, it was Joel Marks who somehow found out and used the information against both of us. John copped it as much as I did."

"So, is he important to you, this young man?" her mother asked. "Rachel, you have shut me out of a lot of your life, don't shut me out now."

Rachel folded up the tea towel and carefully hung it over the towel rail, and looked over at her mother. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to shut you out," she began. "Some of the things that happen in my life are pretty grim, so it's hard to share with someone who isn't exposed to that sort of thing. I guess I do it to protect you, and Dad. I deal with the dark side of life, and of course I didn't want you guys hurt by all those accusations that surrounded the whole murder charge."

Her mother put her arms around her and gave her a hug. "You are my only daughter, and I accept that there are aspects of the job you do that you can't discuss or talk about. But when it comes to your possible love life, I really would like to be kept in the loop."

Rachel returned the hug, and laughed. "There is no love life, Mom," she said. "I honestly don't know how I feel about John. He is a really good friend, he has saved my life a few times, and he went to the wall over the whole Marks thing, getting me proved innocent, yet sometimes he irritates the hell out of me. He thinks of me as a friend but I know that sometimes I annoy him. That's all I can say for now."

"Fair enough," said her mother. "I am looking forward to thanking him anyway."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Rachel spent the next few days just relaxing, and found herself hoping she could survive the ordeal of the wedding without losing her temper with her cousins, her aunt or the other bridesmaids.

Friday finally arrived, and about an hour before Rachel was leaving for the airport, to pick up John, her phone rang.

"Hey," he said, and her heart dropped. "I'm really sorry, but Bailey and I are still in Houston."

"I suppose it can't be helped," she said, keeping the disappointment out of her voice. "How close are you to an arrest?"

"Pretty close," he replied. "Look, we are heading back to Atlanta tonight; I will try to get on a flight tomorrow. Give me the address of the function centre, maybe there's a chance I can get there even if I have to go straight there from the plane."

"Oh John, that's too much trouble for you," Rachel said. "I totally understand, I know the job tends to impose itself on our social life. Don't worry, don't put yourself out."

"Rachel I promise I will try to get there," he said, with genuine regret in his voice, and she nodded glad that he was unable to see the tension that was causing her to grip the phone and turn her knuckles white.

"John, I understand," she said again. "Don't bother, it's too hard now. It's ok, it really is," and she hung up before he could say anything else.

Her mother looked up when she came downstairs.

"I don't think John will make it," she said lightly. "He's caught up on an arrest in Houston."

"Oh Rachel, I am sorry," her mother said. "I was so looking forward to meeting him."

"It happens in our line of work," said Rachel. "It doesn't really matter anyway."

The rehearsal appeared to be fairly straight forward; but Rachel was unprepared for the ribbing she received when she told Marie that John would be unable to attend.

"Oh, has the boyfriend has pulled out at the last minute?" asked Larissa. "That's a surprise."

"In our line of work, it's more inevitable than surprising," replied Rachel.

"You're very calm about it," said Heather. "Did you call and tell him not to come?"

"No," said Rachel, "Why would I do that?"

"So we wouldn't tease him, or you," replied Melanie. "We can see how much you don't like it."

"So your rudeness is teasing?" said Rachel, suddenly angry. "It is immature and stupid."

"Well, excuse us," replied Larissa. "We can't all be as grown up and mature as you. You always were 'special'." And she gave a scornful laugh.

"And always spectacularly unpopular because of it," said Melanie, spitefully, and she turned her back on Rachel walking away. "No wonder he doesn't want to come and be with you – that's if he was ever going to come, and not a figment of your imagination." She added, loudly enough to be heard.

Marie, who was walking toward the door to speak with her fiancé turned back suddenly.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Are you arguing?" then, as no one answered, she turned on her sister, voice raised in anger.

"What is going on?" she repeated and Heather smiled placating. "Nothing, we were just teasing and Rachel got upset, like she always used to."

"I thought we had all grown out of that stuff," she said. "This is MY WEDDING, and I wanted you all to be in it, because you are all special to me in one way or another. For God's sake I don't care if you all hate each other, but can't you at least try to get on for my sake." She burst into tears, and ran toward William and his groomsmen who were standing a little way off, watching the proceedings with surprised eyes.

Her uncle James, who was also standing with the group came over and put his arms around his daughter, and sent a dagger like look back in the general direction of the four bridesmaids.

Feeling somehow ashamed of her behavior, even if she hadn't actually done anything, Rachel walked over to Marie.

"I'm sorry sweets," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Marie gave Rachel a hug. "I know that it wasn't you," she said. "I know how difficult it must be for you to come back here, especially with what's happened. And I know Heather and the others can be a bit …." She stopped short of calling her sister and best friends' bitches. "They are jealous of you. Don't let them get under your skin."

Rachel hugged her back. "I'm ok," she said. "We will stop trying to score points off each other, and start giving you all the attention." She raised her voice so the others could hear. "You are right, it is your wedding and it should be all about you."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Saturday, and Rachel was up early and met the others, who had spent the night together, at the hairdressers before 9 in the morning. From then on, it was a whirl of preparation, as each of them had their hair piled up on top of their heads in a knot of curls and tiny baby pink rosebuds placed at intervals, their makeup applied, and nails polished. Then they were whisked away in a stretch limo to the function centre, where the ceremony and reception would be held, and ushered into the beautiful suite where their dresses were waiting. The time flew by, and each of the bridesmaids were carefully polite to each other and concentrated on keeping Marie calm, as she was getting more and more tense as the actual ceremony approached.

Rachel struggled into her dress, which by nature was extremely tight across her boobs, as it was strapless, tugged on her ridiculously high silver sandals, and picked up her small pink bouquet. There had been no time for lunch, but she had gulped down a few glasses of champagne, so she was feeling quite a nice glow as she looked out of the window to watch the guests file into the chapel opposite. A tall man in a dark suit caught her eyes, and for a breathless moment she thought John had magically managed to make it, but as he got closer she realized it was no one she knew. She felt cross with herself at how much her heart had leapt, then dropped.

The photographer had been posing and taking photos of Marie, and then it was the turn of the bridesmaids to stand together, and pose behind Marie, and Rachel thought that this was going to be the hardest part of the day, smiling, smiling, while the dress made it difficult for her to breathe properly, and her feet were being pinched by shoes too high for comfort. But she did acknowledge that Marie looked absolutely beautiful in her snow white gown and veil, and that the other bridesmaids looked stunning with their matching hair styles, and tight strapless satin gowns.

Then Uncle James knocked on the door, and looked with misty pride on his youngest daughter.

"It's time," he said, and there was a flurry of activity as they grabbed their bouquets and followed Marie and her father across the courtyard to the chapel.

She walked slowly into the chapel, following Larissa and Melanie, with Heather and then Marie and her father behind, smiling as she passed her family, all together on the right hand side of the chapel. Her mother looked proud, with tears in her eyes, and Belinda gave her an approving smile. The service was reasonably brief, but the love that Marie had for William shone through, and brought a lump to Rachel's throat, and she forgot her own troubles for a moment, and smiled at the romance and beautiful words that joined her cousin to the man of her choice. Even so, she was pleased when the service was over and this was echoed by the other bridesmaids.

"If I had to stand there much longer, my feet would have fallen off," whispered Melanie as they met up with the groomsmen, and walked back down the aisle in pairs. "But it was a beautiful service."

Rachel was being partnered by William's youngest brother, who was perhaps 19 or 20. They walked slowly out of the chapel, waiting patiently while everyone crowded around Marie and William, and then began the posing again for the photographer. Once again they climbed into their limousine and were driven several miles to an old mansion, set in exquisite gardens, to have another long photo session, as the afternoon passed into early evening. Finally, when Rachel's face hurt from smiling, they were allowed back into the cars, and headed back to the function centre to meet up back in the overnight suite booked for the bride and groom, for a much needed, in the female's case anyway, bathroom stop, and to refresh their makeup, before making their appearance at the reception, where all the guests would be seated and ready.

They lined up in the big and grand entrance to the huge ballroom, where the reception was being held, and as each couple was announced, walked through and down an aisle to the bridal table set up at the end of the room. Rachel came in third, after Melanie and Larissa, and Matthew, William's brother, escorted her to her chair, pulled it out for her and waited until she was seated before heading to the other end of the table to sit next to another brother.

All eyes were on the doorway waiting for the announcement for Marie and William, and everyone applauded when they made their entrance, hand in hand.

Finally Rachel allowed herself to relax slightly, looking over at the table where her parents sat with her Aunt and Uncle and several family friends. At the next table sat her three brothers and their wives, and Belinda gave her a little wave. But the empty chair between Belinda and Sarah stuck out to Rachel like a missing tooth. She gave a little sigh, and wished the rest of night would pass quickly, seated as she was, between Heather and Larissa who were commenting, in loud voices, how sad it must be to not have a special friend or partner to share such a romantic occasion, and looking straight at Rachel as they did so.

The MC announced that waiters would be coming around with drinks, and then after a short interval, the meal would be served. Everyone started chatting, and Rachel sipped her fourth or fifth glass of champagne for the day, casting her eyes over the guests, recognizing lots of people that she used to know, and finally glancing over at the big double doors, which were still open to the entrance hall, and her heart leapt again, as John appeared standing in the doorway, looking over at her.

She pushed her chair back and stood up so suddenly that it fell over, and most people stopped talking to look at her in surprise, but she ignored them all, and walked around the end of the table and back down the aisle between the tables as quickly as her high strappy shoes and several glasses of champagne on an empty stomach would allow.

As she got closer, she saw that he had followed Grace and George's orders and was wearing a very plain, very stylishly cut black suit with a soft baby blue coloured shirt and a deeper colour blue tie, which made the blue of his eyes pop dramatically.

With everyone watching, she rushed at him, and put both her arms around his neck, and hugged him tight. He stepped back, and put his arm around her, picking her up and swinging her around, and she had to commend his quickness when she put her mouth up to his ear and whispered.

"I know this was not part of the deal, but could you kiss me?" she asked, and quick as anything, he brought his mouth delicately down on hers, and she closed her eyes and let the sensation wash over her. She clung on when he went to pull away, so the kiss went on for a long time. Eventually he pulled back and she rested her head on his chest.

"Not that I didn't enjoy it," he said, "But I can't believe you are that pleased to see me, what on earth has been happening?"

"Oh boy," she said, into his shirt. "You are about to find out. Is everyone watching us?"

He looked over her head. "Pretty much," he replied. "Most people are gawking. I bet your father's not happy. And how many brothers do you have? Am I in trouble here? Are they bigger than me?"

She laughed. "Nah," she replied, "You're bigger. I've fought with my brothers, and I've seen you fight. You could take them, no problem."

"Oh good," he said. "That's comforting. Here was I hoping to make a good impression on your family and friends."

"Well, an impression has been made," she said, still laughing. "I am so glad you are here," she added. "Are you prepared for this?"

"Well I was," he said, slanting a grin at her. "But now I'm not sure."


	8. Chapter 8

*AN I am wondering if anyone is bothering to read this? Not sure whether to keep posting it or just give it up as a bad joke.

CHAPTER 8

She took his hand and led him into the room, where their entrance was greeted by more gaping and astonishment that when the bride and groom had walked in.

She walked up to her parent's table, and smiled at her mother.

"Mom, Dad, - this is John Grant," she said. Her mother stood up, and smiled widely. She walked around her table and reached out, taking John's other hand.

"I have wanted to meet you for a long time," she said tremulously. "I want to thank you for what you did for Rachel, getting her out of jail."

John smiled back. "It was a team effort," he said. "When one of ours is targeted, the team is targeted. We back each other up."

Her father also stood up, and put out his hand, although his stern expression did not change.

"Jason Burke," he said as he shook John's hand. "Rachel told Carol and I you weren't coming."

"I managed to get on a flight this afternoon. I hired a car and came straight from the airport," said John. "I left a few messages on your cell," he said, turning back to Rachel. "But I guess you were busy."

"Well Rachel, you'd better get back up to the bridal table," her father continued. "Your mother can show John where he is sitting."

Rachel let go of John's hand reluctantly, and walked back toward to bridal table, where all eyes were on her.

She picked up her chair, and sat back down, smiling at the stunned expression on her cousin Heather's face.

"Wow," she finally said, leaning over to Rachel. "He looks more GQ than FBI. Are you sure you didn't get his number out of the yellow pages and hire him for the night?"

Rachel stared at her for a moment, and then laughed. "Oh please, you have to ask him that yourself, I would love to see his face when you do."

"Well that was certainly some greeting," said Melanie, leaning over Larissa. "I thought you said he wasn't your boyfriend."

Rachel tossed off the champagne that was in her glass, and grabbed the bottle to refill.

"He wasn't at the time," she said, feeling slightly tipsy and also very vindicated. "But the prospect is becoming more attractive by the minute. After we have had dinner, I'll introduce you." She included all of them with a gesture of her hand.  
>"And you can tease me again, about my standard issue ugly FBI robot."<p>

Larissa did not bother to reply, but compressed her lips and picked up her glass.

The dinner was excellent, though Rachel could not remember what she ate, her eyes on the table where John was sitting, noting that the conversation seemed to be flowing easily, and that they all seemed to be having a good time. Belinda looked up to see her looking, and gave her the thumbs up again, and then, behind John's back, made an OMG face, which made Rachel laugh, and Larissa to grind her teeth a little.

Finally the line up at the buffet slowly decreased, and people began circulating. Larissa made an imperious gesture with her hand, and her husband walked up to the table.

"You remember Ty, don't you?" she asked Rachel.

Rachel looked at Larissa's husband with interest. This was the man that had made her teenage heart beat fiercely. He still had his long blonde hair, thinning a little, and a goatee, but to Rachel he looked a lot more than 10 or 11 years older. He still had a wicked glint in his eyes though and smiled at Rachel, tilting his head to one side and gazing at her.

"Yes, I do," replied Rachel, holding out her hand. "It's good to see you again," she said to Ty. He took her hand and shook his head.

"I don't remember you," he said, "I'm sure I would remember someone as beautiful as you."

Larissa glared at him, but he ignored her and continued on. "You're not Andy's mousey little sister are you?"

Rachel laughed "Yes, I am," she said. "I totally understand why you don't remember me. I was very underwhelming at school."

"But no longer," he said gallantly. "Oh you are the one that left us all behind, and joined the Police Force aren't you."

She nodded. "FBI," she said, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Wow that's interesting," was his response, and Larissa reached over and pulled his grasp out of Rachel's.

Rachel stood up, and excused herself, and walked over to where John was sitting. Belinda patted the seat of her chair, and scooted over a little, to lean on her husband, inviting Rachel to squeeze in and share her chair. Rachel sat down gingerly, on the edge of the chair, and sighed dramatically.

"Having fun up there sis?" asked Mike. "You looked like you were." He gulped down a drink and rolled his eyes at her.

"Oh yes," she replied. "I really enjoyed the whole experience. I have been squeezed into this dress and made to wear these stupid shoes, and spent the whole afternoon smiling and listening to the inane comments from those other three. It's been memorable. Then of course Larissa had to make sure that I knew that Ty did not remember me from school, even thought she knew I had a major crush on him back then."

"Ty Buchanan is an all right guy, he was a great quarterback, would have played professional football if he hadn't blown out his knee." said Andrew. "His wife can be a bit of a pain."

"You think?" asked Rachel, raising her eyes. "Yes, he seems ok. He does remember me actually, but as Andy's mousey kid sister."

Andrew and Mike both laughed.

"This dress is so tight it hurts and these shoes are killing me," Rachel went on to say, "Once the wedding dance is finished, I'm taking them off."

John leaned over with a grin. "That will be entertaining," he said. "Are you wearing much underneath?"

She elbowed him in the ribs, listening to his grunt with satisfaction. "I meant my shoes," she said and everyone else at the table laughed.

"Come with me, and I'll introduce you to Marie and William," she said, standing up and pulling John up by the hand. He stood up, and kept his hand in hers, following her back to the bridal table. She led him up to where Marie and William were sitting, and performed the introductions, and John leant forward to shake William's hand and offer his congratulations.

"I am sorry I missed the ceremony," he said to them. "Unfortunately it was unavoidable."

"We are just pleased that you managed to make it at all," said Marie. "I have been looking forward to meeting you."

John and Rachel spent several minutes chatting to the bridal couple, and then Rachel moved further down the table, and stopped in front of the bridesmaids who had been watching them talk with Marie and William.

"Heather, Larissa, Mel, this is John," she said, with an unworthy but contented feeling of payback. "John, these are the other bridesmaids. We have spent quite a lot of quality time together these past few days."

John smiled at the group, and all three stared back at him. "You all look beautiful," he said gallantly.

"Have you got your id with you?" asked Rachel mischievously, before anyone could reply.

John looked at her with a question in his blue eyes.

"Yes," he said slowly, "Why?"

"I am sure Heather would like to see it, to prove you are FBI, and not some male escort I called up at the last minute," she went on to say and Heather glared at her, and colour swept into her cheeks.

"Rachel I never said that at all," she said defensively. She looked at John, "I never said that," she repeated, embarrassed.

John laughed, and with a practiced movement, pulled the leather wallet that held his identification from his inside pocket, and flipped it open.

"If I was," he said to Rachel, "You couldn't afford me."

"Dream on," she said, laughing back at him, and then leant back against him, ignoring the stares from Larissa Mel and Heather. His smiled widened, and he put his id back into his pocket.

"Oh I do," he said, putting both arms around her and turning her to face him. "You'd be surprised at how much."

She stared up at him, noticing for the first time, slight shadows under his eyes.

"How much sleep have you had over the last couple of days?" she asked.

"A few hours, here and there," he replied.

"A few hours? In how many days?" she frowned up at him. "How tired are you?"

"Fairly tired," he said, still smiling at her. "But it was worth it to get the greeting I got at the door."

Still ignoring the three bridesmaids, who were listening in and staring avidly, she put her hand up to cup his cheek, while at the same time shaking her head.

"You shouldn't have come," she said, and then much more softly, "But I'm glad you did."


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

The MC chose that moment to announce that the cake would be cut, followed by the bridal dance, and directed everyone's attention toward the table in the corner where the cake was proudly displayed.

Keeping her hand in John's Rachel joined the crowd to watch Marie and William cut the wedding cake to much applause, and then the music started up, and the crowd all stood back to make a large circle around the dance floor, and the bridal couple began their slow dance. After a couple of circuits, Heather and her groomsman partner joined in, then Rachel reluctantly let go of John's hand and caught Matthew's eye, and they too joined in, followed by the other two bridesmaids and groomsmen. The music changed slightly, but still they danced, gradually joined by other people.

Matthew was only about Rachel's height, and obviously nervous about dancing, he took deliberate steps, and held her with a slightly perspiring grip, trying to look anywhere but down the front of her dress, and failing miserably. Her feet were on fire from the silver sandals, and she felt like she was being marched back and forth across the dance floor, so she was doubly pleased when John tapped Matthew on the shoulder, and then cut in.

He put both arms around her waist, and she was able to relax against him slightly, and suddenly her feet didn't bother her quite so much.

She put her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, following the lead of his body and letting the music sweep over her. She could smell the faint spicy tang of his aftershave, and feel the soft material of his shirt against her cheek, she could hear the slow thump of his heart as she rested her head on his broad chest. She felt a movement nearby and opened her eyes to see her mother and father dancing together close by, watching them with a certain question in their eyes. She glanced up at John, who was looking down at her with an unreadable expression on his face, causing his blue eyes to darken.

"Thanks for rescuing me," she said. "Poor Matthew couldn't dance properly, and all he could do was look down the front of my dress, or try to."

"How childish and immature," said John, his ready grin flashing across his face again. "But he's young, and any guy that age is always going to try."

"And you would never do anything like that, I suppose," she asked back, smiling up at him.

"Oh yes, always," he said, and she started laughing.

"Well, this dress is so tight, that everything is totally squashed flat, so I don't think you're going to see much," she said, continuing with the light hearted banter.

"You'd be surprised," he replied, raising one eyebrow, and she laughed again.

"It helps being taller, too," he went on to say. "I can do it far more surreptitiously."

She found they had circled the floor and were back alongside the table, where Belinda was sitting watching them also with a curious look on her face.

Rachel pulled away from John and collapsed into the chair next to her sister in law.

"I am in so much pain," she said. "I don't care what it looks like, I'm taking these shoes off," and she kicked them off under the table, crossing her legs, and rubbing one foot in relief.

John sat down next to her, and picked up a glass, pouring water into it and began drinking. Rachel leaned over, and pulled the glass out of his hand, smiling at him. "Do you mind if I have a small sip?" she asked, and he smiled at her. Andrew leant over and began talking to John, so Belinda grabbed Rachel's hand, and pulled her back to her abused feet.

"Come with me, I need to go to the ladies again," she said, "And no one will notice your shoes or lack of."

They threaded their way through the dancing couples, and out of the banquet area.

"Rachel, he is absolutely gorgeous," said Belinda, as soon as they were out of earshot.

"He scrubs up all right, I suppose," replied Rachel, holding up the hem of her dress.

"All right? Did you see their faces?" continued Belinda, referring to the other bridesmaids.

"They couldn't take their eyes off him. You must have really enjoyed that particular moment; it's been a long time in the making."

"Actually, I did feel quite happy, when I saw John at the door. I felt awful, just dumping him at your table, and leaving," said Rachel. "Was it awkward over dinner?"

"Not at all," said Belinda, opening the door of the ladies, and smiling at someone coming out. "Andrew and Mike were talking cars, and John fitted right in. After that, they got onto sport, and they were chatting away like long lost friends. He told a couple of funny stories too, and made us all laugh. I know Andrew likes him."

"Well, I know Mom has been won over," said Rachel. "Dad wasn't impressed when I kissed him at the door. I hope he hasn't been frowning at John all night."

"I don't think so," said Belinda, washing her hands. "So why haven't you told me about John before tonight?"

"What do you mean? I've told you about all the team. I've mentioned him before."

"Rachel, it's obvious he's crazy about you. And pretty obvious to everyone, that you are crazy about him."

Rachel stared at her friend in silence for a moment. "No, John and I are friends, just friends," she said. "He can be so annoying at times. We argue all the time, honestly Bel, there's nothing between us, we are just friends. This is me we are talking about. I don't do 'crazy' remember? We are just friends."

"I am sure if you say it often enough, you might persuade yourself of that," said Belinda wickedly. "But watching you dance together, seeing you throw yourself into his arms when he arrived, and that kiss! – you certainly are giving the impression that there's more than friendship going on. Even inviting him here, I mean surely you realize the implications?

Rachel shook her head, but Belinda continued.

"You feel comfortable enough with him, to lean on him, drape yourself around his neck while you dance, drink out of his glass …kiss him when you knew everyone had their eyes on you. Rachel this is more than just 'friendship," she went on to say, watching Rachel's green eyes widen in dismay.

"Oh God, I did that , didn't I?" Rachel put her hand up to her cheek. "What am I going to do?" and she stared at Belinda in dawning horror.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Sarah came through the door and rushed into a cubicle. "I'm busting," she said. "I've been looking for you Rach; I think Marie is getting ready to leave."

She came out of the cubicle and walked over to them, and began washing her hands, staring at Rachel in the mirror

"What's the matter with you?" she asked, and turned to Belinda with a question in her eyes.

"Poor Rachel doesn't know what to do about John," said Belinda with a grin.

"You're kidding, right?" Sarah shook her hands under the air dryer. "I know what I'd like to do to him, slowly, and while we were both naked." She looked at them again and laughed. "If I wasn't still in love with my husband that is," she amended.

"Sarah, we work together, we are just…"

"Friends, yes there you go again," said Belinda cutting in. "You are totally in denial."

"Rachel, it's not complicated, take him home and seduce the pants off him," said Sarah "I know there's quite a few women here that would like to do that."

"Sarah, - we are staying with my parents – in separate rooms! I couldn't possibly even if I wanted to"

"Well your Mom will probably have got Andrew or Mike's old room ready for John to stay in," said Sarah. "So sneak in, and lock the door. Trust me; your parent's room is a long way away. Mike and I never got caught before we were married."

Both Rachel and Belinda looked at her. "What?" she said. "Don't tell me you haven't tried anything like that before."

"No, not in my parent's house," said Rachel blankly. "You are totally making me rethink everything I ever knew about my brother though. I am totally shocked. Belinda – did you and Andrew ever …?"

Belinda gave a gurgle of laughter. "Not in your parent's house," she said, "But once or twice in mine. The terror of being caught just adds spice."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "Now get out there, and grab that man, and you can let us know tomorrow if he looks as good out of his clothes as he does in them."

"I am no longer a teenager," said Rachel, "and we wouldn't even be having this conversation if I wasn't mostly drunk from all the champagne I have been swilling all day. You really think he looks good?" she added cautiously.

Sarah smiled. "Oh yeah," she said. "Totally not what I expected but very yummy. Actually he seems like a really nice guy as well, which is probably more important. I honestly thought a guy that had those sort of looks would be up himself, but he seems to be unaware of how good looking he is, which is nice. He was telling us during the meal, that one of your co-workers made him promise to wear something blue, and he has no idea why – he totally doesn't realize what it does for his eyes. An egotistical guy would automatically know what to wear to bring out his best points."

"Yes, Grace told me she had. He sometimes has questionable taste in the shirts and ties he wears. And yes, he is a nice guy except when he's being an overbearing idiot, which he can be at times," mused Rachel.

"You grew up with five brothers Rachel. Don't tell me that they were always sensible," said Belinda, "Because if you did I'd have to call you a liar. I married one and I know that he can be an overbearing idiot at times. He can also be wonderful and generous and sexy but he can be a bloody pain in the butt at times too."

"Oh that is so true," said Sarah. "Mike can be absolutely painful at times. Rachel, don't make the mistake of waiting for the 'perfect man' because I don't believe such a creature exists.

Oh shit, we had better get back out there, Marie and William were about to leave. All this talk about men has totally distracted me. You are such a bad influence Rachel"

Rachel laughed and opened the door. "I am totally shocked at both of you," she said, walking back into the ballroom.

Her Aunt pounced on her as soon as she appeared.

"Rachel, we have been looking for you. Marie is leaving now, we need you over here."

Rachel obediently followed her Aunt over to where the wedding group had gathered, hoping no one would notice her bare feet. She glanced around, wondering where John was, and finally located him in the far corner, in a group that included her brothers, her father, and several other people, including Larissa's and Heather's husbands. He had taken off his suit jacket, and loosened his tie, and was talking at that moment to her father. She wondered what they were discussing so earnestly.

Her mother came up behind her, and put her arm around her.

"It's almost over," she said to her daughter. "You looked lovely, pink does suit you. Are you tired?"

"Yes, but it was a lovely wedding," replied Rachel. "Marie has done well with William, and they seem so much in love. As soon as they have left, I think I will take John home, he's even more tired than me."

"Your father and I will head home shortly as well," said her mother. "I really like him Rachel," she added, in a whisper as people started crowding around to wish the bridal couple goodbye.

Rachel kissed her cousin and her new husband, and then merged back into the crowd, and then turned and walked over to John, who was standing back a little.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked, noting the shadows under his eyes were darker.

"If you are," he said. "Lead the way, and I hope the motel has nice soft beds."

"You aren't staying in a motel," she said. "Mother would not allow that. You are sleeping in one of the three guest bedrooms my parents have."

"Oh," was all he said.

She went back to the table, and began feeling around for her shoes. "Do you have a problem with that?" she asked, looking up at him.

"No," he said shaking his head. "I thought I'd be in the local motel, but if your parents don't mind that's good, I am just looking forward to lying down somewhere comfortable."

Rachel found one shoe and then lent down to look under the table for the other one. As she sat up, she swayed suddenly and had to put her hand on the table to stop herself falling.

"Oh I have had way too much to drink," she said. "I need to go home to bed too."

She put her hand up and John reached down and pulled her to her feet, and she had to grab at him for support as once again her legs wobbled.

"Rachel, you are not driving," her father came up behind them. "You look like you have been drinking all day. How much have you had?" he asked John.

"I haven't drunk any alcohol tonight," said John, slightly taken aback and not used to being questioned by someone's father. "I didn't want to risk it."

"Dad I wasn't going to drive anyway," said Rachel. "Don't be such a grump. We are going now; I'll see you at home." She put her arms around her father and gave him a kiss, and then took John's hand and led him towards the main door.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Belinda waved them over as they went past.

"Heading home?" she queried, and with a knowing smile at Rachel added, for the benefit of the others standing around, "Have lots of fun,"

Rachel smiled and nodded and tried to ignore the suggestive wink that Sarah made to Belinda, her hand still firmly clasping John's. She was feeling very strange all of a sudden, relaxed but nervous, looking forward to being alone with John, but terrified at the same time, and totally bewildered at her own reactions.

"Where's the car?"she asked him, as they walked down the steps and towards the car park.

"The advantage of turning up as late as I did is that I was able to grab a park right near the door, as the wedding cars had gone," he said with a grin. "This is it," and he flicked a remote at a dark car.

He opened the door for her, and she sank into the passenger seat with a sigh.

"Don't go to sleep," he said, as she leant back and closed her eyes. "I don't know the way."

"I won't go to sleep," she said. "Turn right out at the end of the driveway, and then left onto the main road."

She looked out of the window at the reception centre as John reversed the car out of the park, and slowly drove through the car park, then turned to watch his face, while his attention was elsewhere, her thoughts on the reactions of various people throughout the night, and on what Sarah had said to her.

She was sometimes too serious, and she knew it, but she found it hard to let go of her tough persona. The time she spent in prison had made her rethink a lot of things, and one of them was the way she related to the people who were close to her.

She watched as John glanced to his left, and turned the car right onto the road, and she found herself staring at his mouth, as if seeing for the first time the beautiful defined shape of his top lip, and she realized she was more drunk than she thought because suddenly all she wanted to do was to latch on and suck on the sensual curve of his bottom lip.

He glanced over at her, with a query in his blue eyes, and then looked back at the road.

"What?" he asked. "Have I got something on my face?"

"No, nothing," she said, looking away with reluctance, "I was just zoning out, it's been a full on day for me."

"Yeah, I've had a couple of those in a row," he said. "But I enjoyed myself tonight. Your brothers' seem like good fun, and your mother was sweet. It was nice to finally meet them."

"Well thanks again for coming," she said. "You don't know how much I enjoyed watching some people's faces when I introduced you to them. And you will never know how long I have been waiting for some sort of – I want to say payback, but that's probably not the right word – maybe closure is a better word."

"Well I am glad I was of some use to you," he said, "I don't really understand what or why or even how, as long as it was positive."

She smiled and nodded, and indicated he get into the left lane. "Turn up here at the lights, and then it's the next left after that."

They drove in silence for a while, Rachel indicating where to turn, and all the while trying not to stare too hard at John, as she conducted an internal debate about what to do with these new and unusual feelings of lust that were flooding through her. She stared at his hands on the steering wheel, and tried not to think of how those hands would feel on her body.

"This is it," she said finally, thankfully, as they turned into a leafy residential street. "The third house on the right, just park on the lawn, so Dad can get into the garage."

John pulled into the driveway, and looked at the big house with awe. "It's huge," he said, staring up at the double storied house, covered in ivy.

"Don't forget, Mom and Dad had six kids," said Rachel. "They needed the space."

She retrieved a key from under a flower pot on the front porch, and opened the door, and waited while John retrieved an overnight bag from the back of the hire car.

He entered the house behind her, looking around with interest at the wide hallway, and followed her into a large lounge room, filled with comfortable looking sofas, a large television in one corner and one wall covered in photos. He hooked his bag over one shoulder and looked at the photos smiling as he recognized Rachel in most of them.

"Get away from there," she said, throwing a cushion at him. "Don't look at them, they are embarrassing."

"I think you looked very cute," he said, still smiling. "Especially in this one, with your front teeth missing, how old were you, about 7?"

She grabbed his arm and pulled. "You can't look until I have seen some embarrassing photos of you."

"Every photo I have ever had taken is embarrassing," he said lightly, and she tugged at his arm again.

"Do you want a drink?" she asked, dragging him into a large kitchen. "Now that you don't have to drive can I ply you with alcohol? I certainly need another one to recover from spending all day with that trio."

"Sure," he said. "I'll have a beer if you have one. Was your day so bad?"

"Oh yes," she said, opening the fridge, and handing him a can. "It's over now, so I can breathe. Actually I will be able to breathe when I take off this dress, so I will show you where you are sleeping, and get changed. Then we can meet back here and have our drink. I need to ask you something."

"What?" he asked, putting the drink on the counter.

"Let me get comfortable first," she said. "I just need to know something."

She led him upstairs, to a large landing, and opened one of the doors, turning on the light.

"This was Mike's room," she said, leading the way into a large bedroom. "Mom uses it now as a guest room, the door over there leads into a bathroom. My bedroom is further down the hallway."

She walked out of the room, and John threw his bag on the bed, looking around at the room before walking to the window and looking out at the night and wondering why Rachel was suddenly different.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

She stepped out of the dress with a tremendous sigh of relief, pulled on her silk dressing gown, and stepped over to her mirror, pulling rose buds and clips out of her hair. She grabbed her hair brush, and began the arduous task of brushing it out, trying to get it back into some sort of order, but gave up and stared at herself in her mirror.

"You are an idiot," she told her reflection. "You are about to ruin your working relationship, any chance of friendship, and just about everything you have worked so hard for."

Her reflection looked back at her, totally not caring about anything but gratifying this new and urgent need.

"What if he turns you down, what then?" she asked the mirror, but could still only see quivering excitement in the Rachel staring back.

"Shit," she said, and turned away, heading back downstairs.

John was back at the photo wall, sipping on his beer. He had left his jacket and tie upstairs, and looked a lot more casual.

Rachel came and stood next to him, and he grinned at her.

"Some of the pictures are classic," he said, indicating a particularly awful school photo, in which she looked stiff and unhappy.

"Yes, let's agree they are terrible, I told you not to look," she said, pushing him away from the wall in mock anger. He laughed and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs.

"What was it that you wanted to ask me?" he queried, lifting one dark eyebrow and grinning at her. "That old time question, briefs or boxers? Or the new time question, briefs, boxers or commando?"

She laughed but shook her head, and then hesitated for a moment, and sat down opposite him, fiddling with the cushion on the chair as she searched for the correct words.

"That very first time we met," she said, raising her eyes, her expression becoming serious, "Way back at Quantico, why did you originally start flirting with me at the bar?"

John looked surprised at her question, his blue eyes widened and he began chewing on his bottom lip, drawing Rachel's eyes back to his mouth again.

"I thought you started flirting with me," he countered. "What on earth does it matter now?"

"I want a serious answer, a truthful answer," said Rachel, folding her legs under her, and hugging a cushion. "I want to know whether you did it as a bet, or did you do it because you knew I was running the course, and wanted to score points over me, I just want to know what your motivation was."

"Why is this important to you?" he asked. "I mean it was years ago."

"Tonight, it is important," she replied. "I just want to know if what we went through, the investigation and charges that I faced, if it was all because of a dare, or a joke."

John looked down at his drink for moment, considering her words. After a long moment of silence, he looked back up and met her gaze.

"I did it because I think you were, you are beautiful," he said simply, and she could see the colour rise in his cheeks.

Of all the things she didn't expect, that answer was at the top, and seeing him blush pushed her over the edge. Her heart did another flip flop, and she felt her inhibitions vanish.

"Everybody thinks – that we slept together at Quantico," she said. "It's only us that know it didn't happen."

He shrugged his shoulders, put his drink down and stood up abruptly, as if this was a painful subject. "What's your point?" he asked. "Why are you going there? Do you think I enjoy that particular memory? I was drunk and stupid. I'm sorry that happened, and I will always be sorry that happened, but I thought we had gone past it. I think, if you don't mind, I'll go to bed now, I am really tired."

"I'm not bringing it up to upset you, or to make you feel bad," she said, standing up also. "We have never really discussed it, and I just wanted, no, needed to know your motivation."

"Well, now you know," he said. "Goodnight," and he walked out of the room.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Rachel sat back down, her emotions all awry, and she watched him stomp up the stairs. She took another long sip of her drink, and chewed on a nail reflectively. She was surprised at how quickly he got upset and had not meant for the discussion to go in that direction.

She finished her drink slowly, and then climbed the stairs, heading toward the bathroom to clean her teeth and scrub the makeup off her face. Turning off her light, she flung herself on her bed, her thoughts churning. She lay in the dark for a while, and then with sudden determination, she got up and went into the large passage, up to the bedroom where John was, and opened the door.

"John, we need to talk," she said, turning on the overhead light. John had just dropped off to sleep, and he sat up in surprise, mouth open, blinking at her. The sheet slipped down to his waist, and all of a sudden the urges Rachel had been feeling earlier returned with a vengeance. She stared at his naked chest and all rational thought fled.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his blue eyes wide. "Rachel what's wrong?"

She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips and reluctantly raised her gaze to the stunned

expression on his face.

"Everyone thinks we have slept together," she whispered. "I wasn't saying it to get you upset. I was saying it because I think it's time we made it come true. I want you to make love to me."

He stared at her in shock, unable to say anything. She came closer, and sat down on the bed, fighting to overcome her desire to run her hands over his breathtaking body.

"Here?" he asked, still trying to make sense of what she was asking. "Now?"

She nodded, unable to say anything else, not wanting to beg but prepared to if necessary.

"In your parent's house?" he asked in shock. "With your father about to come home?"

Her lips twitched, and she started to smile.

"I am nearly 30 years of age," she said to him. "Way past the age of consent. And so are you."

"In your parent's house?" he asked again, blinking at her.

She nodded, and licked her lips again. "Unless, of course, you don't want to." she said, and this time she did put her hand on his chest, right over his heart, and closed her eyes feeling the warmth of his skin.

He reached out and put his hand on the back of her neck, and pulled her closer, so she lost her balance and fell across his body. He cupped her face, and kissed her, and she kept her eyes closed, as a tingling sensation started in her toes and swept through her body.

She kissed him back urgently, shrugging out of her dressing gown, demanding more and matching his exploration with her own. Her excitement intensified, and she became almost aggressive in her need, running her hands over his body, touching him and opening herself to his touch. It was quick, hard and excitingly orgasmic, and left them both gasping for breath and completely satiated.

He collapsed down on top of her, breathing fast, and then rolled to the side, putting one arm around her and holding her tight.

"Oh God," she gasped, lifting her head off his shoulder. "I didn't even turn off the light."

She looked down at him, waiting for the bite of embarrassment, but all she felt was relaxed and satisfied.

He smiled up at her, blue eyes sleepy, and she dropped her head back onto his shoulder, happy when his arm stayed around her.

"You know I'm scared of your father, right?" he asked. "Did you lock the door?"

She nodded and squirmed with contentment, heaving a happy sigh, and reached up to a switch on the side of the headboard, turning out the light and plunging the room into darkness.

"I'll go back to my own room in a sec," she whispered, "I'm sorry I seduced you John, blame it on a six or eight really rotten months, and a hard week leading up to the wedding, and lots of champagne. We are still friends, right? I mean, this isn't going to change anything, is it?"

"Well I was hoping you will give me another chance," he whispered back. "I mean, I was asleep, I have had about five hours sleep in the last 48, and we are in your parents' house. Not good odds for a great performance. I was going to apologize to you and promise to do better next time."

She laughed quietly and put her arm over his chest. "There was nothing wrong with your performance," she said. "Friends?"

"Friends," he said. "Maybe friends with benefits?" he added hopefully.


End file.
